


Know the Wine for What It Is

by hops



Series: For Old Time's Sake [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Sex, F/M, Post-Canon, but not really. more like, idk what to tag this as? closure sex?, implied stolen century magcretia, sequel porn, whatever it's porn just read it already
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 15:46:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11947446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hops/pseuds/hops
Summary: They won't talk about it, but it's driving them mad.Magnus aims to please. Lucretia remembers.





	Know the Wine for What It Is

**Author's Note:**

> these two won't leave me alone today it seems. 
> 
> follow up to [claim your ghost](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11944467), read that first!

The day they meet, just the two of them, it's pre-arranged and predetermined; spoken of with equal parts shyness and honesty. They needed  _something,_ something that could loosen the tension pulled taut between them, tugging and pulling them closer together. After all, these first few months were the first in over a decade that they both had all of their memories of the century they'd spent, in love and running from the Hunger. And aside from the one moment of weakness that had led to a night spent together prematurely without Magnus's knowledge of their past, they hadn't done anything about those feelings since she'd dropped her journal into Fisher's tank. So they had agreed: one time, one night, after a meal and a drink. Then, some time apart. Then, they let go. It would be closure, maybe, hopefully, in some strange way.  

So he comes to her apartment in Neverwinter with a bottle of wine and waits for her to open the door. A cat comes weaving around her ankles, both of them looking up at him. She smiles.  

They drink and eat the meal she's prepared, and it's nice. Despite the circumstances, it doesn't feel clinical or wrong. It only feels familiar to her.  

They're talking and laughing and she's running her foot up his thigh and he swallows hard.  

"Is this okay?"  

"Yeah."  

He's blushing. He's handsome.  

He's... wearier than he was back then.

They're walking up the stairs, Lucretia moving backwards, and she can't stop kissing him long enough to get a word out. A reminder informs the deliberate way that her tongue traces along his: this is the first time in a long time, and it's the last time for good. She falters backwards and he catches her with a quick hand curled around her lower back. He kisses her again.  

They're in her bed and they're undressing themselves and then each other, savoring each exciting and new piece to learn about the other's body; Lucretia going slowly and tracing new scars and wrinkles, knowing they have unlimited time, and Magnus, with all of his memories returned, noting the new curves of her, the changed lines of her face, the exhaustion in her eyes. They quietly note the ways the other has changed since they'd seen each other like this last, in her chambers on the moon base. She lays splayed out on the sheets and he looks at her with the utmost fondness.  

"You," he sighs, trailing his hands over her breasts, then down her sides to her hips. A chuckle rumbles in his throat. "You are so fucking beautiful."  

She's flushing from the shoulders up, feeling warm. She can't even formulate a response. 

"You've never been more beautiful."  

The breathless way he says it draws her attention, if he hadn't had it already. She relaxes back into the sheets as he goes to work, kneeling next to the bed and pulling her legs forward tenderly. He kisses down her stomach and trails his tongue over the meeting of her thighs, then parts her legs with a big and gentle hand that leaves a trail of goosebumps on her inner thigh. Another electric touch thrills her as his fingers brush over her clit and, oh, _right_   _there,_ his tongue following soon after. He licks and sucks and holds her down tightly by her hips. The softness of her skin draws him in closer.  

He's using his fingers and she's breathing his name like a forgotten prayer. He brings her just close enough, then lets her rest for a moment.  

She's watching him and he's somehow different and the same at once. He's still Magnus: handsome, silly, sweet, eager to please. But he's tired now, weathered and worn by the century and the days after Raven's Roost and the year and a half spent chasing relics and tirelessly fighting the Hunger. He's weary now. They both are.  

She studies the new scars on his chest, pinkish and raised in contrast to the ghosts of white lines and pock marks from stitches in his skin, and she sits up to run her hands over him. "I... can't tell you how much time I spent thinking about this," she whispers, leaning close to his ear. She feels him shiver. "Thank you."  

He turns so they're nose to nose and he kisses her. She kisses back with fervor and they're tipping backwards onto the bed and they're laying together, Lucretia on top of him, laughing, and she's home she's  _home_ and everything is right again. Her entire world set right again, even if it's only for a night.  _Don't think about it,_ she begs of herself, and she puts the thought out of her mind.  

She's moving herself up to straddle him and she's slowly scritching her nails over his chest hair. He moans softly.  

"Is this okay?"  

"Yes."  

"Okay."  

She's kneeling above him and she takes him by the shaft, using him to rub on her clit. Obscenities roll through her mind as she loses focus in the pleasure.  

"Oh," he breathes. His head lolls back onto the pillows.  

They both take a sharp breath in when she guides him inside her.  

And they're kissing, they're gasping, they're groping, searching, loving. When he reaches down to rub her clit with the thick pad of his thumb, it takes all of her self control not to come then and there.  

She wants to tell him that she still loves him. She knows she can't.  

She opts to show him instead. She's kissing down his neck then back up to his ear and she exhales with a smile at what she feels next: he lifts her up a bit to hold her steady while he thrusts up into her. Her sounds and words get shaky as she's heaved by the movement of his thrusts.  

"Is this okay?"  

" _Yes, Lucy._ Yes, yes— _"_  

 _"Magnus."_  

She goes first and he follows suit almost immediately after. As heat quakes through her and she leans down over him with her arms holding her up, she remembers: first, all of the beautiful times they'd shared this moment before, and second, that this would be the last. This is it and she loved him, she loves him, she still  _fucking_ loves him and it's pulling her apart. Her whole body aches with exhaustion and loneliness and want.  

She remembers him hovering above her in the indigo light from Fisher's tank. The memory of his lopsided smile, the gentle look in his eyes, his hand thumbing her cheek tenderly, it all floods to the front of her mind at once. Better sense behind her, she squeezes her eyes shut and begs of the universe to give her just one more day. Just one last memory of the century gone for good now. She remembers the black eye, the new bronze buttons left unused of his new red uniform, his beaming smile. And then, the thought that always followed: her journal, floating in the tank.  

And finally, the aching, endless loneliness that she'd forgotten returns.

Magnus reaches up and wipes a tear from her cheek. She opens her wide eyes and looks down at his face, his cheeks littered with tears that had fallen from her eyes and onto his face. He's tearing up now, too. Tears drip down the sides of his face, behind his ears, onto the pillow.  

She's gasping for breath now, little hiccups that send her heart hammering. She's closing her eyes. She's sobbing.  

He's holding her close. He's saying, "I love you. I love you." He's kissing away her tears with a tenderness she's longed for desperately for over a decade. She wants him to stay so badly. She loves him too and she can't say it because she knows it won't change the fact that tomorrow he'll be gone again and it shatters her.  

He touches her cheek, gentle as the first time he kissed her. She aches for home.  

They don't talk about it.   


End file.
